Phoenix Rising (9 page)

Was he supposed to stay here, or could he wander about? He sat on the edge of the bed and glared at the closed door. In NYC, it was Sunday morning. He generally hung around the apartment on Sundays, sleeping late and then heading to his favorite café for a hearty breakfast. Afterward, if work wasn’t on the schedule, he’d take a leisurely walk through Central Park and maybe catch a movie. Sometimes he spent the afternoon at his mom’s place, puttering in the yard. True, he hardly ever did these things because of the demands of his job, but he
could
if he was home.

But he was in Nepal, a country about which he knew almost nothing. They had monasteries, he thought, and that brought to mind monks dressed in dark robes, chanting and swinging incense burners on chains. What did they call them?
Censers
, he thought, a
nd if my phone worked, I could confirm that online.

The hell with this.
He went to the door and opened it. He stopped on the threshold, stunned.
The large room was filled with people, who sat or stood or lay everywhere. What struck him instantly was the quiet. Back home, a crowd this big would be making one hell of a racket, but here, no one spoke. They weren’t even fidgeting. As a group, their eyes were trained on the Phoenix, wings folded neatly against his sleek red-and-gold feathered torso.
So that’s what the cube is for.
Like the others, Artemis could not take his eyes off Phoenix. Aside from his impressive height and glorious plumage, the bird was a commanding presence, and he was speaking. Artemis listened as closely as anyone.
“… pay what you can afford, no more and no less. There is a basket on a table beside the door through which you entered. As you leave, put in it what feels right. This might be money, this might be a trinket you are fond of, or it might be gems or candy or buttons off a coat. No one will question it.” Phoenix paused. “We begin.”
At that moment, the bird saw Artemis and bent his magnificently crested head to say something quietly to Ammon, who hovered attentively at his side. The PA quickly made his way around the room to Artemis.
“Come with me,” Ammon said in a tone that would brook no argument.
Artemis followed the PA back to where Phoenix was getting off his perch to stand in front of his visitors. Their eyes met. Artemis felt a chill run through him.
“Please sit here,” Phoenix said, inclining his head toward the cube. Artemis sat, folding his legs tailor fashion, and glanced up at the glass roof above, noting a blue sky fighting fast-moving clouds. The sun was not yet high enough to be seen, but its light flowed and flashed across the walls.
Phoenix went to the person closest to him, a male child about four years old. His protruding eyes had dark circles around them, and his skin was pale as winter snow. A woman Artemis assumed was his mother held him in her lap.
Phoenix sank down in front of them, studying the child. “What is your name?”
The boy shrank back against his mother, eyes going wide. She said, “Elias.”
Phoenix slowly opened his wings. “Are you brave enough to come to me, Elias?”
Mom gave her son a little shove, and after a moment, he crawled slowly across the rug to Phoenix. “What will you do to me?” he asked in a small voice.
Artemis’s muscles tightened at the forlorn tone in the child’s voice. It was obvious he’d been through a lot in his short life from the way he trembled violently as he sat in front of the bird, looking up fearfully.
Phoenix bent over the child, laying his wings gently over Elias. “I will not harm you.”
This did not comfort the boy, who looked back anxiously over his shoulder. “Mom?”
The woman gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s okay, Eli. I’m right here.” She raised her eyes. “He has neuroblastoma. The doctors said he was at stage four. First there was surgery, then radiation and chemotherapy.” She swallowed hard as moisture filled her eyes. “There’s nothing else they can do.”
Phoenix began to sing, very softly, and Artemis recognized what he’d heard in his room early that morning. A pleasant scent reached his nose, and its effect, along with the song, was immediate: he relaxed and felt happy. He noticed Eli had a tremulous smile on his face and had sunk into Phoenix’s feathers.
Artemis gave Phoenix a look, startled at the transformation. The bird did not notice. All his attention was on the boy who now leaned trustingly against his feathered chest. The amethyst-colored eyes swam behind silver fluid, and as Artemis watched, one tear slid down over the white eye ring and off the cheekto fall on top of the boy’s head.
Abruptly, the rest of the phoenix legend came back to him: the tears of the magical bird could heal.
Music did not play, cymbals did not crash, but Artemis felt movement in the air around him, and then Phoenix was saying something to the boy so softly, Artemis could not hear the words.
Phoenix sent the boy back into the arms of his mother before moving to a thin young woman leaning on a cane. Artemis watched Eli, seeing sudden energy in his movements and an absence of dark circles around his eyes. Cured, then, and with only one tear? Was it possible?
By the end of that very long day, he was convinced it was. People who had arrived in wheelchairs walked out. Canes were thrown aside, and children almost skipped with joy as their parents, crying from happiness, led them out. Lovers hugged, weeping together as they left with arms around one another. The basket by the door filled and was emptied several times.
In the middle of considered speaking to this miracle working, Artemis someone who was obviously American to ask them if they’d get a message to the NYPD, but he never had a chance. Ammon kept a sharp eye on him, and the one time Artemis left to use the bathroom, the PA accompanied him as if he knew what was on his mind.
When the last supplicant had gone, the door was closed and bolted, and Artemis found himself alone with a very tired-looking phoenix. Even his feathers seemed to droop.
“Will you have dinner with me, Artemis?”
“Depends. What does a phoenix eat?”
“Teasing me, Detective? That pleases me.” Phoenix turned to Ammon. “Please serve us in Artemis’s room.”
“As you wish.” Sketching a respectful bow, Ammon crossed the empty room and vanished through the door opposite Artemis’s.
Phoenix led the way to Artemis’s room, wings dragging a little, opening the door with one clawed foot to let the detective precede him. The last of the light was coming in through the windows, gilding the room with soft gold. It flashed off Phoenix’s red-and-yellow feathers as he stood in the middle of the room.
Artemis looked at him curiously. “No offense, but maybe Talis could be here?”
The bird glanced at him with tired eyes. “Talis is beyond me at the moment. I must eat and drink first.”
“Um, okay.” After witnessing what Phoenix had done all day, Artemis didn’t doubt the bird was exhausted. “That was impressive, what you did for those people.”
“It is my function, my reason to be.”
Shrugging, Artemis threw himself onto the bed. “How can someone who heals kill? I don’t get it.”
“I’ve told you, Artemis. I did not kill those young men.”
“You fucked them,and they died. Explain that.”
“Perhaps this could wait until I have rested.” Phoenix perched in the chair and closed his eyes.
A not-uncomfortable silence fell. Artemis heard the bird's soft breathing and the whisper of his feathers as he shifted in the chair.
Artemis dozed but woke within minutes, heart beating like a jackhammer.
That’s happening a lot lately
, he thought, licking dry lips as he sat up. Through the open door, footsteps approached, now clear, now muffled, as whomever it was walked across the scattered rugs.
When Ammon appeared with the ubiquitous cart, Artemis sat up, stomach growling.
Phoenix’s beautiful eyes opened. “We shall eat, and then we will talk.”

You don’t know me; you never knew my heart. No man knows my history. I cannot tell it: I shall never undertake it. I don’t blame anyone for not believing my history. If I had not experienced what I have, I would not have believed it myself. I never did harm any man since I was born in the world. My voice is always for peace.

A
MMON
prepared an overflowing plate for Phoenix and placed it on the end of the bed where he could easily reach it without leaving the chair, nodded at Artemis, and departed. The bird looked at the man briefly before beginning to eat. This process consisted of a combination of using his beak and clawed foot to deliver food to his mouth. Phoenix thought he accomplished this with some elegance, but occasionally something fell to the floor.

Phoenix could barely move. Fatigue weighted him, making even the process of chewing slow and difficult, but it was essential that he get his energy levels back up. Healing took everything out of him, and he had done much of it today.

When the group had toured, he had regularly slipped away to one of his residences and raised the flag, sending the word that Phoenix was back and ready to receive visitors. The news passed via word of mouth and internet and cell phones, and they came. He had not neglected the purpose he was created for while he searched for his soul mate.

By the time he'd finished the first plate of food, his strength was returning. “Artemis, would you kindly give me seconds? The roast beef is especially good this evening.”

The detective did as requested. “Can you tell me something?”
“I can tell you many things.” Humor laced Phoenix's words. Doing an internal check, he decided that, yes, he could now shift, and did so. Artemis handed the refilled plate to Talis.
Color rose attractively in Artemis’s cheeks. “Would you like me to scrounge you up something to wear? I can search out Ammon….”
“If my nakedness does not disturb you overmuch, I’m quite comfortable without clothing.” Retrieving a fork from the cart, Talis continued to eat, this time savoring what he tasted rather than just getting it down. “It’s warm enough, and we are unobserved. Feel free to remove your own clothing, if you like.”
Artemis laughed uneasily. “I’m not as comfortable with nudity as you are. I’ll keep my clothes on.”
Talis shrugged. He loved being naked. He enjoyed the way air felt against his skin and how his body moved. Humans were sensuous creatures, yet they had taken giant steps away from that state. “You have questions for me?”
Artemis had finished and was on the bed, supported by a mound of pillows, long legs stretched to one side, sipping wine. “I find it remarkable that a giant talking bird that can heal is so casually accepted, not to mention the distances some of those people traveled to be here today.”
“That is not a question,” Talis pointed out, cleansing his palate with chilled water before diving into ceviche made with octopus and squid. It was delicious. He closed his eyes in delight as the flavors exploded on his tongue.
“What
is
that?” Artemis asked, amused.
“Ambrosia of the gods,” Talis said with a grin. “However, some insist it originated in Peru centuries ago. Whatever the true tale of its origins, it has an exquisite taste. You did not try it?”
“I generally don’t eat what I can’t identify.”
Talis held out a forkful to him. “Taste.”
Artemis studied the food held out to him, then raised his eyes to Talis’s before scooting forward to take the offering. His mouth, as he gingerly chewed, captured Talis's attention. He watched Artemis’s beautiful lips before dropping his gaze to appreciate the scruff-covered jaw and the strong neck below. Would it be soft to the touch, or rough? What would he taste like? Saliva flowed as he thought about it.
He said, “What do you think?”
“It’s good. Didn’t think octopus could be that tender, and I’ve always enjoyed squid when prepared correctly.”
The expression in Artemis’s eyes was different tonight. Softer… perhaps even kinder. “Today changed the way you look at me.”
Reclining against his stack of pillows, Artemis nodded slowly. “That boy with neuroblastoma?” He blew out a long breath. “He’ll live. He’ll contribute. That’s due entirely to what the phoenix did.” A shadow fell across his eyes. “But you are still wanted for murder, which you insist you did not commit.”
“They gave me their essence, freely and without coercion.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Talis put his plate down. “Always it comes back to this. Can’t you look beyond what you think you know and hear what I’m saying?”
“No, because what you say makes no sense.”
Talis drew a breath. “At the next full moon, I will require another soul to remain human. At that time, you can observe the process,and then you will know.”
Clearly agitated, Artemis sat up. “You can’t possibly be telling me you will kill again in three weeks… and I’m invited to watch.”
Talis rose and went to the bed, gazing down at the detective. He studied the dark-haired man for a long moment. “You are no longer afraid of me.”
“I was never afraid of you.”
Talis sat on the bed. “Perhaps it wasn’t me you feared, but your feelings toward me.” Artemis said nothing. The smallest smile on his lips, Talis leaned toward him until their mouths were only inches apart. “You want me. You can hardly breathe for wanting me so much.”
A strangled sound escaped Artemis’s throat. “You’re doing some bird thing to me, aren’t you?”
Talis laughed softly. “Bird thing? What are you talking about?”
“You smell like the phoenix. Dark, mysterious…. It”—he drew in a sharp breath—“does something to me.”
Shaking his head, Talis closed the gap between them, touching his lips briefly to Artemis’s. The energy exchange through even that short contact electrified every part of him. The look of surprise on Artemis's face told Talis that he, too, had felt it. “That scent belongs to Phoenix. It soothes and calms and brings a quiet joy to any space he is in.”
Artemis breathed raggedly through parted lips. “Don’t tell me what I’m smelling. It’s the bird. Next you’ll be telling me your human tears don’t heal.”
Smiling, Talis stole another kiss. “I don’t know that they do. I should test it sometime, I suppose. Kiss me back.”
“No.” Even as he said it, Artemis was pressing his lips against Talis’s. The detective’s hands went to Talis’s shoulders, grasping and pulling him forward.
Talis was exalted by the man’s lips and tongue and sweet breath. Lust poured through him, making him ache with need, but he knew, even as Artemis melted against him, that the time was not yet right, and it had to be right. Everything depended on it.
Even as every nerve in his body screamed to move ahead, take him, make the man his, he disentangled and pulled back, leaving Artemis gaping at him in surprise. Lightly stroking Artemis’s cheek, Talis said, “Not yet. This is merely lust, and I want it all.” Talis teased the inside of Artemis’s mouth with his tongue, probing gently before licking across his chin and along his jaw. “You taste wonderful.”
“It’s the soap in the shower.” Artemis gave Talis a push. “You said not yet.”
Laughing, Talis pulled back. “You are irresistible, Artemis, but resist I will. For now.” Rolling onto one hip, he said, “Move over. I need to sleep, and I want to get under the covers.”
“Go to your room,then. You have one, don’t you?”
“I’d rather be with you. No sex, just sleep.”
“I’ll let you stay here on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“You let me call Rachel.”
“Cell phones don’t work here. No signal.”
“I’ll bet you have a landline, though.”
Talis grinned, appreciating Artemis’s persistence. “Call her on her personal phone and I’ll agree. You’ll let me listen?”
“I figured you’d insist on it.”